


Until the End of the Age

by timelordangel



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Cas has problems sleeping, Castiel in the Bunker, Dean's really unstable, Destiel - Freeform, First Kiss, M/M, Matthew 28:20, Second Person, What's new, human!Cas
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-15
Updated: 2014-04-15
Packaged: 2018-01-19 10:47:59
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 766
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1466626
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/timelordangel/pseuds/timelordangel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Castiel screams in his sleep, but your eyes are dry and you’re out in the hall and it’s two seventeen in the morning and you’re that drowning man again, running to your dry land. Find it. Find him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Until the End of the Age

**Author's Note:**

> Matthew 28:20- "And surely I am with you always, to the very end of the age.”

Castiel screams in his sleep. You know this, of course, because you have been listening to it for the past three weeks. It feels you’ve been listening to it for your whole life; however, now you know why the Rit Zen showed up at the sound of Castiel’s pain.

It hurts you. It cuts into you like knives twisting into your chest and you lie awake and stare wide-eyed at the ceiling, at least you used to. Then you started pacing; you paced your room and then you moved to the halls and then you would find yourself staring into Sam’s room and wondering how the hell he could sleep through this. It never occurs to you that he’s simply used to living with it after you got back from hell, and if it did occur to you it would break your heart.

Eventually you stop pacing and just sit in bed, the screams ripping through you as if they were your own. You’re so desperate you consider screaming back, anything but going to him, but you open your mouth and all you can do is sob. You know there is nothing stopping you from going to him except your own fear, but it is enough. You love him, and you know if you go to him you won’t be able to hide anymore, that all your restraint in the world could not keep you from touching him like a starving man looking for relief in his skin.

It’s selfish, you try to convince yourself, muttering the words through staggered breath. You’d want him to love you, even in his broken state, even when he probably didn’t love you like you loved him. You know he’d kiss you back, you know he could love you, because damn doesn’t everybody seem to at some point, but that can’t happen, and you know you’re both too broken to offer a steady hand to hold. All at once you think of everyone you have loved in your life and you feel so goddamn small and you fall back into the bed trembling with the silent open-mouthed screams and all you can coherently think is “I miss” and “it aches”.

 The thoughts are blood and they leak across the sheets until you’re drowning.

In a second you get to your feet and you blindly make for the door, cursing Cas in your head in meaningless streams of “Dammit Cas, we are all broken, why can’t you just be quiet about it?” and “God Damn _you_ Cas, why do you make me love you?” But your eyes are dry and you’re out in the hall and it’s two seventeen in the morning and you’re that drowning man again, running to your dry land. You’re sane enough to knock before you push open his door, but you don’t know what to expect. He’s awake, you imagine he’s often awake, and you pause. He says your name and you feel ridiculous suddenly because you’ve been so in your head that you’ve forgotten nothing out here has changed. He has the nerve to ask you if everything is okay, but how is he to know?

“I was about to ask you the same thing, buddy.” You reply, throwing his question back at him. He tilts his head, stands, and asks if you’re okay. Your instinct tells you (begs you) to run (for your life) but you’re anchored by blue eyes and maybe you’re getting tired of running. So you kiss him instead.

You kiss him like you’re a fish out of water and inside his mouth is the sea. It’s desperate and needy and raw. He wraps his arms around your waist and kisses you back as you whisper “I’m sorry” over and over again. Just once, he says “Dean, it’s okay.” And then you stay silent and ignore the screaming in your head. Eventually, you both collapse onto his bed and even without the light you’re able to pull the duvet over both of you as you kiss him again.

“Do you want to stay here, Dean?” And you don’t know if he means his bed or his heart of if he means for tonight or forever, but it doesn’t matter.

“Do you want me?” You close your eyes and ask with shaky breath, and fuck it all if you want to hear the answer.

He then replies by pulling you closer and pressing his lips to your neck, and a shiver chases down your spine. “Be calm Dean, for I will want you always, to the very end of of the age.”


End file.
